by Christine Brennan, USA TODAY Sports

by Christine Brennan, USA TODAY Sports

It was there for the taking. The U.S. Open was sitting there, waiting to be won. It was Phil Mickelson's to lose. Problem is, he has experience doing that. Lots of experience. And when the pressure became almost unbearable, instead of rising to the occasion, Mickelson made mistakes he just could not afford to make on Sunday afternoon at the U.S. Open, failing to win the major title he most covets and settling into his now familiar role as a runnerup for a record sixth time.

The headlines were already written: Phil-adelphia, or some such play on his name and the town that had fallen in love with the idea that finally, on his 22nd attempt, Mickelson would win a U.S. Open. On Father's Day. And his 43rd birthday. Three days after flying back from California overnight on his private jet after attending his daughter's eighth-grade graduation. And one day after being caught by TV cameras signing autographs for dozens of fans in the darkness Saturday night after the grueling third round.

It sounded too good to be true. In the end, it was.

Perhaps this is just how the story is always going to end for Mickelson at the U.S. Open. Perhaps he'll never win it now. That thought certainly has to have crossed his mind, or will in the coming hours and days. He's a smart man. He knows. It has obviously occurred to the millions watching him over the years. They were the ones cringing when he double-bogeyed two of his first five holes Sunday, then made devastating mistakes with wedges in his hands to bogey the shortest hole on the course, the 121-yard, par-3 13th, and then the 15th.

"For me, it's very heartbreaking," Mickelson said after shooting a skittish 4-over-par 74 in the final round, leaving him two shots behind the winner, England's Justin Rose. "This week was my best opportunity, I felt, heading into the final round, the way I was playing and the position I was in."

And now that opportunity is gone. This tournament couldn't have set up better for him. After his red-eye from San Diego, he fired a three-under par 67 in his morning round to take the first-round lead. He shared the second-round lead. He once again moved back on top alone after the third round. He owned Merion Golf Club. He left his driver at home for the week, which, Phil being Phil, was a very good thing. And then, when it counted most, he faded in the stretch. You could say he blew it and you wouldn't be wrong. It's a harsh commentary, and Rose played very well, and Mickelson wasn't awful -- many others had far worse days than he did.

But he absolutely did not rise to the occasion. Wouldn't that be something if that's his U.S. Open legacy? The swashbuckling Mickelson, always gambling and taking chances, unable to rise to the challenge in his national championship? It's not over yet. He'll have more chances. But if that does become his legacy, it will be a tough one for him to live with.

Mickelson certainly isn't the greatest player of his era. That's Tiger Woods. He has 14 majors. Mickelson has four. But he is the most beloved player of his generation. The galleries were singing Happy Birthday and waving signs to welcome him and rising to their feet as he approached every tee box and every hole, so it doesn't take much to imagine how they would have erupted had he won.

There was a fleeting moment when it looked like anything was possible Sunday. Unable to make a putt or get a break through the first nine holes, Mickelson made the turn and turned his fortunes around in a heartbeat. Standing in the rough on the par-4 10th, he was 76 yards away from the hole. Exactly 76 yards away, in Philadelphia. It was too perfect. He pulled out one of the five wedges in his bag, hit it to the front of the green and watched it roll its last few feet before it fell off the face of the earth and into the hole for an eagle 2, putting Mickelson right back into the lead.

Had Mickelson won, that shot would have been his 1-iron -- the iconic shot Ben Hogan hit on 18 in the 1950 Open to put him in a playoff that he won the next day.

Instead, it was a bittersweet reminder of what might have been. To turn a phrase, nice guys don't always finish last. At the U.S. Open, they keep finishing second.